


Sich Daran Zu Gewöhnen... (To Get Used To...)

by DarkrystalSky



Series: Building Up Walls [2]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deviates From Canon, Gen, M/M, PTSD, People that don't know how to people, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10779708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkrystalSky/pseuds/DarkrystalSky
Summary: Follows from Aufzug zum Himmel.Shiro doesn't know how to care for people, Neko cares to much, Kuroh can't stop thinking about the amber eyes of the boy he slayed. Alternatively, a series of vignettes on what their life has become after the death of the Colorless King.





	1. Augen (Eyes)

* * *

PREVIOUSLY...  
  
_“You did a great job.”_

_“Hurry and come back to us,” Kuroh scolded him as gently as he could, then with easy familiarity he called the nickname they got so used to call in the last couple of days. “Shiro.”_

_Neko sleepily opened her eyes._

_It was going to work out._

* * *

“...still no update on the unprecedented landing of the airship owned by international magnate Adolf K. Weismann. According to a police statement released early…”

Similar TV reports had followed one another on several channels for days, broadcasted on every big screen. The huge airship the people of Shizume got used to see in the sky above their heads had disappeared: several civilians visited the airport and some of them even managed to sneak past security to take a peek at the behemoth ship. The most absurd theories started to circulate, as those who knew the truth were few. And amongst these two, the most peculiar pair of people, currently guests of the Gold King himself, was waiting.

Neko always kept the  _wagasa_ with her, day and night, and had been unnaturally quiet in contrast to the excited outbursts Kuroh was used to. When she witnessed Kuroh killing the Colorless King, she had attacked him, convinced he’d just killed Shiro instead. It took a lot of patience from him to make her understand what had actually happened, that Shiro was alive and was going to come back to them.

But as they waited, on the third day after the  _Himmelreich_ landed, there was still no sign of the Silver King. They both needed time, Kuroh knew and understood that. Time to let things settle, time to explain, time to get used to the sudden turn of events, but that didn’t mean they had to be alone.

The Golden Clan had allowed them to stay at Mihashira Tower for the time being, moving them to a guest floor with actual windows and  _fewer_ security cameras, and they had been staying there for three days after the phone call.

Waiting.

Neko ran away between the third and fourth day: Kuroh looked for her all night until he found her at dawn, still at a certain spot on the bridge connecting the Ashinaka High School island to the mainland, looking at the sparkling reflection of the moon on the bay. It was the same spot they had stopped at the last time they left the island, less than a week before: the School Festival came and went without anybody noticing their absence.

“I wanna see Shiro…” she begged him, with red, puffy eyes and a runny nose. Kuroh sighed: despite being a teenager, Neko still behaved very much like a child and needed to be taken care of, but as he wiped her face with a tissue Kuroh realized how grateful he was to have her by his side. Shiro probably had been as well.

“Let’s go. He’ll come back to us, soon,” he reassured her.

He had to carry her piggyback and take the train to get back to Nanakamado, as they were both too tired to get all the way there by foot, but as they finally got to the base of the tower, they immediately saw an Usagi awaiting for them.

“Has something happened?” Kuroh was immediately alert, straightening his back.

“My Lord’s been wondering where you’ve been. You’re invited to join him on the 15th floor,” the masked man quietly explained, leaving the two of them immediately after delivering the message.

“I don’t wanna, Kurooo…” Neko squirmed on the boy’s back, pulling his ponytail, “don’t wanna see the scary man.”

“Be patient,” Kuroh kneeled to let her down, “it might be important.”

Even as her feet touched the ground, she kept close to him, holding tight the back of his jacked as they called one of the smaller service elevators.

The room they arrived at was wide and empty, with a low wooden ceiling and several doors all around them: only one of them was ajar, this seemed to be the Gold King’s style of inviting someone in, as it was the same thing he did when they first arrived at the Tower.

Before Kuroh could touch the handle to open the door completely, he froze as he overheard a piece of conversation from inside the room.

“...as long as you’re not planning to spend another 70 years cooped up in it,” there was a hint of amusement in Kokujoji’s gruff voice.

“That’s totally not what I had in mind!” another laughed. This voice, Kuroh knew, even if heard it only once, on the other side of a phone. The boy stood still, barely breathing as the conversation inside kept going.

“More complications surfaced than I initially thought, honestly. I’m glad you’ve finally decided to fulfill your duty and come down to help.” The Gold King continued.

“Did I have any choice, actually? May I remind you I’ve actually been  _pushed down_ ?”

As  the Gold King laughed, Kuroh took a deep breath. That was  _Shiro_ , he was right there, in the room he couldn’t bring himself to open. The main thought buzzing through Kuroh’s mind like a bee in a jar was that  _he had no idea what the man behind the door would look like_ .

At some point, Neko had let go of his jacket and was curiously looking at him, as if trying to figure what stopped him. She couldn't know, could she? She never heard that voice.

Kuroh nodded at her and forced himself to slowly open the door on a small parlor: Daikaku Kokujoji was comfortably sitting down on a tall fancy armchair, facing the door.

The other figure was standing up, his back turned towards the door: long silver hair, flowing freely long past his knees, were in sharp contrast with the black overcoat he was wearing. As soon as the door opened, he seemed to tense, but didn’t turn around.

“Oh, you two. Come in, I’ve been waiting.” The Gold King welcomed them by standing up as he saw them.

Once again, Neko hid behind Kuroh’s back.

“Don’t look at me like that, old friend,” Kokujoji glanced at the other person, with a hint of amusement. “You’ve been avoiding this for too long, I simply thought I’d give you a push.”

“I haven’t been  _avoiding_ …” the other sighed, passing a hand over his face, before facing the two.

As the man turned around, Kuroh straightened his back unconsciously, maybe connecting the dots in his mind that the man in front of him wasn’t just Shiro, he was the King of Origins, the First and Silver King. And yet, when this man of legend and mystery finally faced him, the only thought that passed through the swordsman’s mind was that  _of course his real eyes would be silver_ . For a short moment, Kuroh’s first instinct was to turn his back and run away, but not only that would have been  _enormously_ inappropriate, but it would have probably been embarrassingly weird to explain.

For a few awkward seconds, the man in front of them just stared back, then his eyes fell to the ground with an embarrassed smile: “I’m sorry,” he quietly started, “I would have...” he started, “I could have…” he corrected himself, then with a deep sigh: “I should have come back sooner.”

Kuroh opened his mouth as if to reply, but closed it immediately afterwards, swallowing down a sharp remark he didn’t have the heart to say. He was painfully aware that Neko’s wary gaze at the man in front of them was a clear red flag of the fact that the girl didn’t know who was in front of them. But did Kuroh?

He had known Isana Yashiro just for a few days, and for a very few hours only after he started remembering his true identity, moments before burdening him with an unbearable request.

The man’s eyes moved to the girl looking at him diffidently.

“Neko…” the Silver King spoke again, tentatively holding a hand out to the girl, who tried to shrink even more behind Kuroh. “Neko, it’s me, it’s still me…” he continued with a small encouraging smile as he slowly stepped forward. Kuroh knew that awkward smile: despite his elegant, angular visage was that of a stranger, the mannerisms and the gestures were uncannily familiar and that was enough for a glimmer of trust to settle in both of their hearts.

Neko glanced above Kuroh’s shoulder, distrust melting into curiosity as she finally came out of hiding: “Shiro?” she called quietly, the man beamed with joy as she called him like that, for Kuroh it was like a puzzle piece had finally been put in its place, completing the picture. Yes,  _that_ was Shiro, that was  _Shiro_ , he was fine he was alive he was…

_Golden irises clouded with despair, a red flower blossoming and staining the shirt, the floor, Kuroh’s hands..._

“Shiro!” Neko called again, running forward and literally jumping at the man’s neck. He kneeled down and hugged her with an expression of pure bliss.

Neko kept calling Shiro’s name repeatedly, until she finally let go and stepped back to press her palms to his cheeks, to the surprise of both of them.

“This is the real Shiro?” she quietly asked him in the end, unexpectedly serious. So the girl had understood, at least to an extent, what had happened. Kuroh felt ashamed he didn’t give her enough credit.

The man nodded, gently clasping her hands in his own: “Yes,” he reassured her, “This is the real Shiro,” then he looked over at Kuroh once more. “If you’re gonna come and hug me like Neko right now, I’m not gonna look down on you,” he said in a slightly amused tone.

Kuroh scoffed,  _why did he ever doubt he wouldn’t have the same stupid sense of humor_ ?

“No thanks,” he grumbled. Then added, “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Shiro…” Neko whimpered again, “I was so scared, I thought you abandoned me too...I thought Kurosuke ki…” a small hiccup blocked her, although it was obvious what she meant to say.

“Hush, hush…” Shiro gently stroked her hair, “I’m here, I’m fine.”

_That must be nice_ , Kuroh found himself thinking as he watched the Silver King comfort Neko. Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, he recomposed himself: he had a dignity to maintain.

“So?” he inquired, “What now?”

Shiro nodded, standing up once again. Neko grabbed his arm tight as she had before, afraid of letting it go.

“There’s still matters to settle: the police’s anti bomb squad was done with removing the explosives the Colorless King set in my ship and it’s now ready to take off again…” he glanced at the Gold King, who’d been standing in silence all that time. “But the matter of the Red King’s numerical value of variation from causality still fluctuating dangerously close to 100% remains. I did nothing to prevent the Kagutsu tragedy thirteen years ago but maybe I can stop another one from happening.” He regretfully explained.

“And there’s also the matter of the Green King and his possible involvement,” Kokujoji added.

Shiro nodded: “Unless he activates his Sanctum his power is suppressed to the point of being untraceable, his numerical value of variation from causality…”

“Which has a name,” Kokujoji interrupted him with a teasing note in his voice.

“It’s embarrassing!” Shiro whined, before clearing his throat. “His  _Weismann level_ is impossible to discern against the background noise.” He concluded, blushing a little.

“How come you’re still such an idiot after seventy years of isolation?” the Gold King shook his head.

Kuroh found himself grateful to have received a thorough education from his former master, as he was barely able to follow the conversation between the two of them. Neko didn’t seem to care, simply content by holding on the man’s arm with a peaceful smile, Kuroh would never admit this but he envied her flighty nonchalance.

“So there’s that. We asked Scepter 4 to release Suoh Mikoto temporarily, I’m going to talk with him tomorrow.” Shiro caught Kuroh’s attention once again. “After that, we’re onto the Green Clan. It’s better not to oppose them directly, since the Green King’s potential is pretty high…”

“I remember this,” Kuroh intervened. “ _Ani-ue_ told me he witnessed the Green King challenging the Gold King and being able to fight evenly.”

Shiro clapped his hands with enthusiasm: “You have a  _brother_ ?”

Kuroh grimaced, wishing he hadn’t let that slip: “Kind of, he was a vassal of Master Ichigen but he deserted years ago. Haven’t heard from him since.”

“Aw. Such a shame…” the Silver King sighed. “Anyway, I was about to go to Haneda to take the  _Himmelreich_ off the ground. I have no intention to cut myself from the world anymore, but that ship is still my  _home_ .” Despite his smile didn’t fade, he seemed to hesitate a moment before speaking again. “You two are welcome to come...and  _stay_ with me, if you want.” He told them quietly.

“Neko will!” the girl chirped, jumping with joy. “And so will Kurosuke, so he can cook us aaaaaall kinds of yummies!”

“That’s his choice.”

Kuroh soon realized all eyes were fixed on him, as they waited for his answer. “I guess I’ll come. I can’t guarantee I’ll stay.”

“Yay!” Neko cried, hugging him as well. Shiro nodded, his smile grateful but with a hint of sadness.

“Off you go, then. I have my own business to attend.” Kokujoji scoffed.

Shiro turned towards him one last time before leaving the room. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” he said, “really.”

The Gold King motioned him to go, and he did, followed suit by Neko. As Kuroh was about to leave as well though, Kokujoji stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“A piece of advice, for a friend of a friend.” He said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I know Weismann well enough to say he hasn’t changed a bit: it was only because he forgot his past and status that he allowed himself to get close to you two, but now that he’s back he  _will_ try and cut you off. He loves people, he cares and that’s why he continues to distance himself. Afraid to lose others or get close even though he wants to. He chooses to be lonely and care for others from afar.” He paused, to make sure the words sunk in. “Don’t let him.”

Kuroh shivered: “I’ll do what I can.” In the back of his mind, Kuroh wondered why such responsibilities were always handed to him.


	2. Wolken (Clouds)

Kuroh watched from the glass window how the city morphed into a sea of stars, getting further and further away. The bridge where he picked up Neko a few hours earlier was visible in the distance, as well as the school island. He couldn’t help but think about Kukuri and the others: they forgot Isana Yashiro’s existence as Neko left the island but he wondered if they forgot his as well. He also wondered who bought the fireworks to use during the festival and what happened to the room Shiro had used, but he knew those questions had to wait.

“Lookie! Lookie! Kuro!” Neko called at him from the other side of the room, where she was leaning on the window as well, pointing at the very same tower they stayed at during the last few days. The girl had gone back to her usual bubbly attitude and had been running all around the airship since they got in, exploring any nook and cranny, touching, sniffing and occasionally attempting to eat everything that looked interesting. “It looks like a bunny from here!”

Kuroh smiled ad her enthusiasm, she appeared to feel already at home in the vast airship. Kuroh, instead, couldn’t help but feel trapped inside a metal coffin, the vague shapes of the buildings below now barely discernible as they reached the first clouds. Absentmindedly, he took his recorder and pressed a button, looking for comfort in his late Master’s voice.

“ _Stars Below / shapes in the eigengrau / whose dream is shaking whose eyelids?”_

__

“As fascinating as these poems can be, I will ask you to refrain from playing that thing every minute because you know, that’s  _creepy_ .”

__

The voice took Kuroh by surprise as the Silver King quietly had joined them in watching the view. The man was standing a few feet away from them, as still as he was part of the ship himself.

__

“Shiro! Shiro! Look! It’s a bunny!” Neko called out to him as soon as she saw him.

__

“Bunny?”

__

“She means Mihashira Tower,” Kuroh explained.

__

“Ah, I see,” Shiro chuckled, “Indeed it does.”

__

Kuroh looked at the Silver King, keeping a neutral expression. The older man’s gaze was unfocused as he looked outside, lost in his thoughts, he also kept his distance from both of them until Neko ran towards him and threw herself at him. After a moment of surprise, the man laughed and picked her up like a kid.

__

“You’re heavy, Neko,” he jokingly complained, though he seemed to appreciate the girl’s affection.

__

“You’re done with piloting?” Kuroh asked, feeling left out.

__

Shiro nodded: “For now.” He left it at that, before changing topic. “Are you hungry?”

__

“Yes!” Neko exclaimed, loud enough to make both of them wince.

__

Kuroh frowned. “Don’t tell me you can actually cook…”

__

“Nope! Sorry, there’s plenty of ready made meals though, courtesy of the Gold King” he laughed heartily, like Kuroh had make some kind of joke. “I’ve always been hopeless with practical stuff, Klaudia was the one who…” he suddenly stopped.

__

_Klaudia Weismann_ . The Gold King had told him the story, when Kuroh had mentioned to him how Shiro called her name as he started remembering. Kokujoji had told him she died, just like everyone else working on the  _König Projekt_ , just moments before her brother awakened as King.

__

Kuroh had no idea what the relationship between the two siblings had been, but her death had undoubtedly taken an incredible toll on the Silver King and had been the primary reason he secluded himself from the world. The way he was doting on Neko now, like a daughter or a sister, was maybe an attempt on moving on?

__

_He loves people, he cares and that’s why he continues to distance himself. Afraid to lose others or get close even though he wants to._ The Gold King’s words echoed in Kuroh head as he looked at the two of them from a respectful distance.

__

“I’m hungry!” Neko whined.

__

_Don’t let him._

__

“Yeah, I’ll eat something as well.” Kuroh nodded. “Although I’d rather cook it myself.  _Ready made_ , really?”

__

Shiro gave him a sheepish look.

__

-

__

Kuroh was finally able to pinpoint the exact reason of his uneasiness, after a fast and frugal dinner -they were more tired than hungry, after all- the exact moment Shiro showed them to their rooms.

__

“Why do you even have guest rooms?” he blurted out as he opened the door to the small but comfortable cabin.

__

Shiro had laughed: “What, do you think I’ve always been alone? Former Kings used to visit and introduce themselves, and I also invited some regular people who used the  _candle_ from time to time,” he explained.

__

Kuroh’s heart skipped a beat as he realized.  _He was treating them like guests._ Without any warning, he had already started to distance himself from the moment he invited them to come.

__

“Shiro,” he called before he could leave, but as silver eyes stared into his, he was suddenly at loss for words. “Good night.” He simply said, slipping into his cabin and closing the door behind.

__

-

__

It was a little past six in the morning, according to the digital clock on his PDA, when Kuroh woke up, initially disoriented and unable to figure out where he was. Fumbling, he reached to turn on the lights: as he pressed a button on his bedside, the window which occupied most of the wall of the narrow cabin slowly became transparent, letting the sunlight in. 

__

The spectacular sight of dawn from above the clouds left Kuroh speechless for a few minutes, during which he just stared at the pattern of shadows dancing on the thick cloud cover: was this the sight Shiro woke up to in the last few decades? Could one even get bored of such a view?

__

Sighing, he finally got out of bed. The cabin had its own bathroom so, after a quick shower, Kuroh ventured into the silent hallways: he knew how to get to the kitchen and the panoramic room, but had no idea where Neko and Shiro were staying and if they even were together.

__

Unceremoniously, he decided to explore a little bit and take a peek in every room: a couple of guest bedrooms identical to his, what looked like a master bedroom, empty and untouched, a room full of shelves and boxes containing newsletters and science papers from the last half-a-century, there were also computers, robots and pieces of machinery probably used to upgrade the ship through the years. The boy rummaged through the boxes a while before starting to feel uncomfortable poking around someone else’s private belongings.

__

He finally found Shiro in a large room resembling a study: books and notes were filling chaotically the surroundings and at the center there was a large desk the man was currently asleep at, hair tied in a loose bun, face buried in his arms, a pen still loosely held in one hand. Neko, in her cat form, was curled up on the desk, next to him, and asleep as well. Kuroh sighed and got closer, careful not to step on anything important-looking on the floor, taking at what he was working on: the notes, all rigorously handwritten half in German and half in Japanese, with some English here and there, were mostly about the Slate and its influence. The name of the Red King also appeared several times: was he looking for a way to stop his Damocles Down? Anyway the notes were too garbled and technical for Kuroh to understand their exact purpose, so he decided to leave it at that. As silently as he walked in, he left the study, not before putting a warm blanket on both of the sleeping figures.

__

-

__

Three hours later, boredom had become unbearable. He had explored every room, went through his  _kata_ three times, and prepared an elaborate breakfast before barging into the study again, expecting to find the two of them as he left them.

__

Neko was still sleeping, but Shiro had apparently woken up at some point because he was now working, mumbling something under his breath and writing while barely raising his pencil from the paper.

__

Kuro, the tray with three breakfasts on it in hand, cleared his throat instead of attempting to enter with food in hand, careful not to make a mess. Shiro jolted, turning around with such an astonished expression that Kuroh couldn’t help but smile:  _payback from the night before_ .

__

“Breakfast.” He simply said.

__

Shiro nodded and placed the pencil down. “What time is it?”

__

“Past nine. Did you stay up all night?”

__

“Mostly,” he laughed awkwardly, rubbing his neck and untying the hairbun. “Sorry, I’m really just trying to collect my thoughts, it’s been  _way too long_ since I last worked on my research.”

__

_Right_ , Kuroh realized,  _before being a King he was a scientist too_ . “Is this about the Red King?”

__

Shiro averted Kuroh’s gaze, turning around to gently shake Neko’s body: “That, too…” he answered enigmatically. “Neko, breakfast.”

__

In a poof of smoke, the cat changed into the lithe girl they knew, bouncing ecstatically towards Kuroh without any care about the papers on the floor. Shiro stood up and, after brushing nonchalantly some notes away with his feet, he sat on the floor, beckoning Kuroh to sit down as well. The boy sighed and complied, sitting cross-legged in between the piles of books.

__

“Woow!” Neko exclaimed, admiring the food tray. “ _Itadakimasu_ !” she exclaimed, grabbing a piece of fish with her bare hands.

__

“Are we going to see the Red King today?” Kuroh asked as he started eating as well.

__

Shiro nodded: “I am. I suppose you should come as well, since you’re the one who…” he paused, looking for words.

__

“... _disposed_ of the Colorless King.” Kuroh concluded, holding a cup of miso soup in his hand without drinking from it.

__

_Bright golden eyes, fear and anger distorting that_ oh, so familiar _face as he pierced his heart with Kotowari, blood as red as his ribbon staining the shirt and the blade._

__

“Kuroh…” Shiro, voice filled with regret and pity, “I’m so sorry, really.”

__

“I’m alright,” the boy shook his head, blowing softly on the soup. “That wasn’t really  _you_ .”

__

Shiro winced, avoiding to look Kuroh in the eyes.

__

Neko glanced at both of them in succession, pouting: “Hey, hey! What about Neko?” she butted in, “can I come and see the Red King?”

__

Shiro blinked a few times before replying: “I guess so, but it’ll be harder to explain...ah, you can come disguised as a cat. I’d rather avoid explaining the presence of a Strain with me…”

__

Neko’s smile faltered for a second, but she didn’t say anything. Kuroh just stared at the Silver King incredulously.  _Did he seriously just say that?!_ He opened his mouth to say, but the words didn’t come out easily.

__

_Don’t let him._

__

This was going to be harder than he expected.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stars Below is actually an excerpt from a poem of mine, I'm not sure it can be translated into an haiku, I apologize for my self-indulgence.


	3. Rot (Red)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Red Clan time! A bunch of characters have been added. Anyway, as much as I appreciate kudos, I'd like to actually read what you think about my works so, please, pretty please, comment.

It was snowing when they pierced the cloud cover and the city buildings appeared below them. Instead of bringing the whole ship to the ground, they descended in a small cabin similar to a gondola lift and landed on the rooftop of the building in front of bar HOMRA. Shiro had switched his clothes for a more sober and modern attire, and tied his hair at the nape of his neck. The red  _wagasa_ he insisted on bringing with him was once again the only note of color in the whole monochrome outfit. Kuroh sometimes couldn't help but use that umbrella as the only reminder of who the person he was with still was. Neko, in her cat form, appeared to be perched on Kuroh’s shoulder: if he concentrated enough, he could feel her arms actually wrapped around his neck.

Shiro extended a hand outwards, letting a few snowflakes fall on his palm: “They were expecting us,” he simply announced, as he saw a man walk out the bar’s door, looking up at them.

“Do you have a plan to avoid the Red King’s power from increasing?” Kuroh wondered, looking down at the man he recognized as one of those who attacked Shiro when he rescued him for the first time. “The sword was already crumbling when I saw it days ago…”

“Not yet,” Shiro admitted. They used the fire stairs on the side of the building to walk down. “I’ll talk with him for now. If I can get him to lay low for a while, I will have gained enough time to figure something out.”

“Can’t he just abdicate? I know that’s possible.”

Shiro stopped mid-step, his hand clenching on the handrail. “...as a last resort…” he mumbled quietly. Kuroh couldn’t see his face but the way his voice slightly trembled when he answered hinted there was something more to that whole situation.

A young girl, no more than a child, walked out of the bar as they crossed the road, staring at them with big red eyes and clutching to the end of the Red Clansman’s jacked. The man looked at her. “Is it them?”

The girl nodded with determination: “The King…” she said, barely a whisper.

The man nodded: “Very well,” he sighed, “Go tell the others and Mikoto.”

The girl ran back inside just as Shiro stopped in front of the Red Clansman.

“According to Protocol 120, I, the First and Silver King, request to access the territory of the Third and Red King.” Shiro announced loud and clear. “The Colorless Clansman Yatogami Kuroh is with me. We will not be harm or be harmed.”

The man smiled and crushed the cigarette he had been smoking under his heels: “So many formalities,” he sighed. “Anyway, I heard you were the one who interceded for Mikoto’s freedom, Silver King. Thank you for that. I’m Kusanagi Izumo, Red Clansman.”

Shiro shook his hand with a polite smile. The man called Kusanagi glanced at Kuroh and spoke again. “Black Dog, Yatogami Kuroh. I heard you gave our vanguard quite the beating…”

_Their vanguard? Oh, the short boy with the skateboard._ Kuroh remembered. “Your vanguard should learn to assess the situation before attacking.”

Kusanagi laughed unceremoniously: “Yeah, he should. Please, come in.”

Bar HOMRA was nothing like the two expected: it was a refined ambient, with shelves of alcohol bottles neatly disposed behind a wooden counter. If it wasn’t for the street punk-look of the people sitting on the sofas and chairs it would have looked like a high-society gathering.

“...really the Silver King…”

“...I heard he is immortal…”

“...that ship…”

“...not completely human…”

Kuroh glared at the Red Clansmen, who had just started whispering behind their back as they walked in.

“What? What is the Black Dog doing here?” a boy abruptly shouted and stood up. It was the aforementioned vanguard, the boy with red hair.

“Ah, Yata- _san_ . They told us, remember?” a huge man dressed in white with heavy-looking golden chains at his neck grabbed his arm, “He was the one who...you know…slayed the Colorless King.”

Kuroh shivered: so that was the word the Gold King had chosen to spread. Very well, if he had to appear the ruthless killer, he would play the part.

“You alright?” Shiro turned back, glancing at him and Neko. Kuroh nodded sharply.

The Red King, Mikoto Suoh, was sitting on a sofa in a corner of the bar. His eyes closed, a lit cigarette between his teeth; beside him sat the young girl who had seen them moments before. She was looking at them through a red marble.

Kusanagi gestured them to sit on the sofa in front of the one the Red King was currently on, Mikoto slowly opened his eyes to look at them. There was a calm, collected hostility in his piercing gaze.

_Golden eyes._

“Third and Red King Mikoto Suoh, thank you for allowing us to meet…”

“If you’re turning out to be the same kind of disgusting ass-licker as Munakata I’m going to kick you out of here.” Mikoto interrupted him calmly.

Shiro simply laughed, apparently not taken aback by the comment. He finally relaxed and crossed his legs, hands clasped on his knee: “Let’s get straight to the point then. The Colorless King is dead but you’re still on the verge of losing control of your powers: before a repeat of the Kagutsu Crater occurs, I’m warning you.” In a fraction of a second his expression turned serious: “Control your powers or I’ll be forced to take drastic measures.”

Mikoto grinned bitterly: “Beware your words, princess,” he hissed, “I’ll do whatever I want. Was this pathetic attempt at threatening me the only reason you had me released from the Blues?”

“Threatening?” Shiro blinked a few times, “That totally wasn’t my intention.”

“It sure sounded like it, though,” Kuroh grumbled.

“Did it?”

“Yes.”

“Ahh, whoops.”

Kuroh sighed.

Kusanagi looked at them, intrigued by the exchange: “Sorry if I ask,” he caught their attention, “but what is the relationship between the two of you?”

Shiro grinned: “We’re friends!” he announced happily.

The Red Clansman raised an eyebrow, now both fascinated and surprised: “The Silver King and a Colorless Clansman?”

“Yeah, well,” the Silver King laughed, “he did save my skin when you guys chased me!”

Kuroh quite unceremoniously facepalmed.

“We...chased you?”

Shiro nodded, “The young man you followed around the city a few days ago wasn’t the Colorless King,” he raised the parasol as to highlight his words, “it was me.”

The stunned silence that fell between the members of the Red Clan was heavily awkward.

“...what?” it was the red haired vanguard who spoke first.

Shiro looked at Kuroh, who looked like he wanted to dart immediately out of that place.

“Sorry, what?” Kusanagi asked as well.

“Explain.” The Red King’s words sounded more like an order than a question.

And so Shiro started to tell the same story Kuroh had been so familiar with in the last few days but never really heard from his friend’s mouth.

“...through the rooftop into a building in Ashinaka Academy and hid there for a while…”

Kuroh went stiff, clutching the fabric on his trousers: so he decided to omit his amnesia, but this way he…his neck was hurting, it took him a second to realize that, outside of the illusion, Neko’s arms were so tight she was on the verge of strangling him.

“...so, before my ship crashed, I switched us back and…”

“I took care of the rest.” Kuroh croaked, interrupting him.

Shiro’s eyes darted back to the swordsman, who looked as stern as ever but was filled to the brim with an intense desire of  _running away from that place_ .

“So you stopped the murdering son of a bitch,” Mikoto commented, putting his half-finished cigarette out in a glass ashtray, before Shiro could add anything or reply to Kuroh’s comment. “Am I supposed to thank you?” His aura flared for a moment, raising the temperature of the room briefly.

Shiro swallowed, taken aback by his reaction: “Well, no, but…” he stumbled, adjusting the cuffs of his coat, “if you killed him yourself your level of variation from…”

Mikoto stood up, towering on them with an air of pure hostility: “You bastard watched Tatara die and were willing to do nothing about it until you got personally involved.” He growled, the fire of his aura flaring dangerously close. Kuroh stood up, ready to unsheathe his sword. “As far as I’m concerned, you killed him yourself.”

Eyes wide and lips pursed, Shiro took a sharp breath before rising on his feet. The silver glow of his own aura paled in front of the violence of the red one, surrounding all the HOMRA members who were suddenly surrounding the two of them menacingly.

Kuroh had no doubt that, in that moment, two Swords of Damocles had just appeared below the rooftop of the building they were in.

“Sorry about this,” Shiro said, barely a whisper, as he gently put a hand on Kuroh’s shoulder. The warmth of the Silver Sanctum quickly engulfed both him and Neko, protecting them from the scorching heat.

“I have no intention to fight, but you won’t be able to harm us,” the Silver King announced severely, “besides the more you use your Sanctum so indiscriminately, the more you’re close to destroying Tokyo.”

“Then  _get lost_ ,  _princess_ .” Mikoto spat out, nodding at the door. The message was clear: they weren’t welcome anymore.

-

Shiro’s posture slumped the moment they reached the rooftop and they were out of sight from the windows of the bar. With a loud sigh, he banged his head on the gondola’s side.

“ _That_ did  _not_ go well…” he whined, adding something unintelligible under his breath.

Kuroh looked at him, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. “I had this impression but,” he commented flatly, “you’re not very good at dealing with people, are you?”

Shiro winced. “That’s cruel, Kuro…” he smiled bitterly, turning towards him. He motioned to open the cabin’s door, but a fast movement on their right caught their attention as a huge green bird perched on the rooftop’s handrail, staring at them. Neko hissed.

A huge green parrot was staring at them, moving its head with small, frequent, movements. Neko poofed back into her human form, still hissing at the weird bird.

“It’s just a bird, let it be.” Kuroh scolded her.

“What if…” Shiro started, in a wistful tone, “instead of going right back we spend a bit of time down here?” he suggested. Kuroh raised an eyebrow. “There’s somewhere I have to go…” he explained, his eyes fixed on the parrot.

_Slipping through his fingers._

“Shiro...” Kuroh called, but before he could add anything else, Neko used him as a springboard and darted at the parrot, who flew up for a few seconds before perching on another point of the handrail.

“Neko, leave him be. That’s not a normal parrot,” the Silver King explained quietly. “I thinks it wants me to follow him.”

The parrot opened his wings and screeched. “Follow! Follow!” he repeated, taking off and flying in circles above them.

“We’ll come with…” Kuroh started.

“No.” Shiro shook his head, “this, I must deal with on my own.”

“Shiro…”

“Let’s meet here again by sundown.” he announced, point-blank.

“Adolf K. Weismann!” Kuroh exclaimed, on the verge of shouting, just as the Silver King was about to walk away. The man looked back at him with an astonished expression that slowly melted into a bitter smile.

Kuroh stared for a long time, searching for the right words, the right  _questions_ , and he finally spoke again, calmly, but coldly.

“Are you just going to toss us aside?”

Neko jolted, looking back and forward at the two of them, as if she didn’t know whose side to pick.

“Toss you aside…?” Shiro repeated, slowly crossing his arms, hands gripping on the sleeve fabric. “I’m not…”

“Then why did you ignore Neko like that? ‘I’d rather avoid explaining the presence of a Strain with me’? Are you  _kidding_ me?” He gritted his teeth, stepping forward menacingly.

Shiro’s eyes widened, as he looked at the girl who was trying her best to appear smaller, avoiding his gaze.

“I feared the Red Clan would overreact if I brought her with me with no other explanation than her being my friend,” he explained quietly. “You’ve seen yourself how hard they are to deal with.”

“Why didn’t you officially take her under your protection, then?  _Why didn’t you make her your clansman_ ?!” Kuroh continued, dropping the question that had been lingering in his mind for the past few hours.

Shiro didn’t reply, instead just looked at him, as still as the scenery. Neko kept looking at them with increasing worry, until she let out a loud meow and disappeared from their sight.

“Neko!” both of them called, but illusion or not the Strain was already gone.

Kuroh sighed and glared at the SIlver King: “Go where you  _must_ go, I’ll look for her.” He simply announced before jumping off the rooftop, slowing down the fall using his powers, and ran away down the road below.

 


	4. Kerze (Candle)

Kuroh had to fight the instinct of turning back every step he took away from the building he left Shiro at. He hated to leave the argument at that, but Neko was fast and he knew he had to catch up before she could disappear for good. He caught a glimpse of the running girl a few times before an illusion would make him lose track again, and soon he found himself back to the bridge to Ashinaka Academy.

“What are you doing…” Kuroh sighed, running to the island. The service entrance Shiro had been using was still open and he used that to clandestinely enter the campus.

The school campus was as lively yet peaceful as Kuroh remembered, the only difference being some stalls and kiosks left from the School Festival and a few more Christmas decorations.

Having lost track of Neko, the first place Kuroh went looking for her was the dorm room Shiro had been staying at: he used his powers to jump to the balcony from outside. The room had been vacated and used as storage, full with boxes and props, but devoid of any sign of life. Just to be sure, Kuroh called for Neko several times and looked into every nook and cranny before giving up and leaving the room for good. He glanced one last time at the motifs on the wall, the cozy little kitchen and the small tea table at the centre of the room: there was nothing resembling a  _home_ in that place, now. Neko had probably realized this as well.

The lectures had already ended when he walked towards the actual school building, although several students were still wandering the corridors, who for cleaning duties, who for club activities.

“Excuse me, are you lost?” a couple of students approached him at one point. Kuroh knew he didn’t look anything like a student, in his ragged suit and sword at the hilt, so he quickly lied to their face.

“I’m looking for my cat,” he explained. “It’s small and white...pink-ish colored. Have you seen it?”

One of the students shook his head, while the other one seemed to think about it for a while before answering. “I heard there’s a white cat in the old gym storage. Ah, but it’s off limits since the rooftop crashed a few days ago.”

_Of course. That place._

“I’ll take a look, thanks!” Kuroh bowed politely before darting away, running across the campus until he spotted the old building.

The shed was surrounded by yellow tape and several warning signs, but its door was slightly ajar. Kuroh sneaked in and, as he thought, immediately saw Neko, not as a cat but as a normal girl -although she had discarded her clothes-, curled on a mattress in a corner of the room.

“Neko,” he called softly. The girl winced but didn’t move.

Instead of insisting or picking her up, Kuroh sat beside her and started stroking her hair as he’d seen Shiro do. Slowly, the girl began to sob quietly and got closer to the boy, who took off his coat and covered her with it.

Without realizing it, he had dozed off at some point, since he jolted awake when it was already dark outside: moonlight was coming in through the hole in the ceiling.

_Let’s meet again by sundown_ .

Would that promise still be valid after their argument? In any case, Kuroh severely doubted Shiro was still waiting for them on that rooftop.

“I already failed…” he murmured.

“What’s that, Kurosuke?” Neko sleepily asked, proving she was in fact awake herself, although she was still curled up next to him.

“Nothing,” he added. “What do you say we look for someplace warmer to stay? And...let’s find you some clothes.”

Neko hummed quietly but didn’t move.

“Hey, Kurosuke,” she called quietly and oddly serious, “why was Shiro so cruel? I really thought he was going to fight the Red King…”

Kuroh didn’t think that would have ever happened, but still shivered remembering the tone with which the First King addressed Mikoto Suoh.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “He’s been alone for a long time before he met you.”

“But Neko found Shiro right here,” the girl replied, as if that made an argument, “and he was so kind and warm and…” she had to stop as tears had started flowing down her face once again. “I don’t want to be alone anymore, Kuroh…”

It was almost unnatural for her to call him by his name, but the whole situation was unnatural for them. Moonlight faded as clouds started amassing in the sky above them, pre announcing another storm.

Kuroh stood up, stretching sore muscles. “Let’s find another place to stay. I’m hungry and you probably are as well,” he suggested.

“I want to go back to Shiro…”

Kuroh froze.

“Neko, Shiro probably wants to be alone now,” he said, slowly, avoiding her eyes.

“Why?!” The girl jumped on her feet. “Being alone is cold! And sad! Why would he want to be alone?”

“Because loneliness is addicting,” Kuroh remembered how long it took him to leave the empty house Ichigen had left him and venture to Tokyo, and he couldn’t even begin to compare himself to the First King. “And he’s been alone for a long time.”

Neko pouted: “Neko was alone too...and I don’t miss it.”

Kuroh sighed and with a soft smile ruffled her hair. “Come on, let’s go.” He opened the shed’s doors and walked outside just as the first snowflakes started falling.

Neko rushed outside after him, shivering at the suddenly colder air, and closed tightly Kuroh’s coat around herself.

“Ah!” she exclaimed suddenly, looking up. “Ahh!” She pointed her finger at the sky.

Kuroh looked up: the sleek white shape of the  _Himmelreich_ appeared and disappeared behind the clouds above the island.

“It’s Shiro! He came looking for us!”

Kuroh stared at the ship, his lips slightly parted and a dumbfounded expression on his face. Had he been wrong? Did the Silver King really came looking for them? He had to know that their argument was far from over, but was he going to face them nonetheless.

“Ah, of course.” Kuroh smiled with relief. “He’s a stubborn little shit, after all!”

“Shiro! Shiro! We’re here!” Neko called, waving her hands frantically.

The ship kept on circling above them but no gondola descended, even after several minutes. A thin layer of snow had begun to cover their surroundings when Kuroh realized. “He doesn’t know where we are.”

“What?” Neko cried.

Kuroh clenched his fist, the bird’s eye cameras were probably obstructed by the falling snow and they had no way to catch the ship’s attention from their position unless they did something showy. The boy actually considered lighting a fire before remembering a peculiar line of conversation from the evening before.

_What, do you think I’ve always been alone?_

The Candle.

For a Clansman or King, to light a Candle meant to flare their aura just for the purpose to be noticed, but Kuroh’s powers of space manipulation weren’t showy or anything, so that left him a single option.

_Former Kings used to visit and introduce themselves, and I also invited some regular people who used the Candle from time to time._

For common people, unrelated to the Dresden Slate there was a way to be welcomed on the airship and that was a PDA application, appropriately called Candle, that lit the screen in a bright red, visible from afar. Kuroh quickly downloaded the software and ran it, the screen light almost blinding him for a moment before he raised his arm and pointed it upwards.

“Kuroh?” Neko looked at him, perplexed.

“Please, work,” the boy muttered under his breath.

Long minutes passed and Kuroh’s arm started to ache when finally a glint of light between the clouds announced the descending of the small oval ship that connected the  _Himmelreich_ to the ground. Kuroh finally relaxed, sighing with relief.

As the vehicle landed, a small group of students had approached to see it. Among them, Kuroh briefly spotted some familiar faces as he and Neko boarded the gondola: he took note of coming back and explaining at least some things to Kukuri as soon as he could.

As the cabin rose to the sky, Neko was as excited as one could expect, barely keeping still in the small ambient. Kuroh, although relieved the Silver King had found and picked them up, was still determined to finish their discussion and thus kept a straight face as they slowly approached the airship flying above clouds. Metal doors opened below the nacelle, allowing the gondola to slip into the deck, and closed behind them just moments before the small cabin’s doors opened as well.

Kuroh took a deep breath and stepped out, towards the man who was expecting them, as ready as one can be to speak his mind, before he suddenly froze as he saw his expression. There was something more than relief or longing twisting Shiro’s face, something wildly desperate, as he lunged towards them and spontaneously threw his arms around them both.

“You came back!” He simply said with trembling voice. “You came back.”

_Oh_ .

“Of course, stupid Shiro!” Neko replied, hugging him back while Kuroh was too stunned to react in any way. “You can’t do anything without us, how could we leave you alone?”

The man simply hugged them tighter: “I’m so sorry,” he continued, “Thank you for coming back, I’m sorry.”

_Oh_ . Kuroh slowly raised his free arm to reciprocate the hug, gripping tightly both fabric and hair on Shiro’s back.  _I was wrong._ He realized. “Loneliness  _is_ addicting, but once you get rid of it, it becomes unbearable.”

Shiro slowly let them go and looked at him, eyes wet and a mild smile. “Ichigen’s?”

Kuroh bit his tongue, he didn’t mean to say that aloud. “Mine,” he corrected him, “I just thought it up.”

-

If he thought about it, it had been just a few days since they last fell asleep together on a sofa like that. The circumstances had changed drastically, but it was still the same people, looking for comfort in each other and yet unable to demolish the walls that were created between them. It was this kind of thoughts that kept Kuroh awake through the night, as he stood still, his head leaning on Shiro’s shoulder, listening to the other two’s slowly breathing.

As he opened his eyes, he saw thousands of tiny droplets of water appearing on the airship’s windows, only to be brushed away by the wind in horizontal lines. The panoramic room’s lights were off, and the only mild illumination was provided by the lights from the city below and now and then by lightning. Kuroh slowly shifted to look at the other two: Neko was, agreeably with her feline inclinations, curled up with her head on Shiro’s legs. Shiro himself was also apparently asleep, but once again it was his breathing pattern that betrayed him. Still, without saying a word, Kuroh found himself staring.

His features relaxed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, the Silver King looked less ethereal and more like a normal person. A normal  _young_ person. Kuroh knew this man had to be close to the Gold King’s age although his Sanctum protected him from being affected by the flow of time, but it was actually tough to guess  _old_ he exactly had he been when he stopped aging: at a glance he looked like he was in his late 20s, but had more than a few childish habits and a look in his eyes when he was serious that betrayed his actual age. The thought ate and nagged at him until he couldn’t suppress it anymore and spoke softly, to avoid disturbing Neko’s slumber.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Shiro hummed affirmatively, without opening his eyes or stirring, showing he’d been aware of Kuroh being awake as well.

“It’s a bit personal, so feel free to ignore me if it’s too far...” Kuroh continued, hiding his embarrassment.

Shiro quietly chuckled, but didn’t urge him to continue, so Kuroh ended up waiting several seconds before asking the question lingering on his tongue.

“How old were you when you became the Silver King?”

The way Shiro blinked and looked wide eyed at Kuroh was enough to show just how unexpected that question was. “Where does that come from?” he blurted out.

“I-it’s just,” Kuroh stammered, blushing red, “I was wondering because, uh...I can’t guess on my...”

Shiro burst out in a rather undignified giggle that made Neko stir in her sleep, as Kuroh averted his eyes with embarrassment. When he looked up again, the Silver King had stopped laughing and was instead looking out of the windows, his eyes unfocused.

“We’re still below clouds,” he murmured, slowly shifting and moving Neko in a more comfortable position before standing up and stretching. “Gonna change course,” he said a little bit louder, still keeping his voice down not to awake the sleeping girl.

“I’ll wait here, then.” Kuroh sighed.

“I’ll be back ~” the man nodded. He raised his hand as if to pat Kuroh on the shoulder, but stopped before touching him and quickly walked away.

Kuroh stood still for a few minutes, watching the raindrops rarefy as they gained altitude, slowly pondering on the fact that he  _definitely avoided the question._ Neko mumbled something in her sleep, prompting the boy to stand up before she could invade his space, and she stretched on the sofa.

With a sigh, Kuroh left the panoramic room and walked the corridors up to the helm room: the metal door was ajar and he could hear Shiro’s voice from within. Wondering who he was talking to, he approached it quietly.

“...to admit, your clansman took me by surprise.” Shiro laughed, despite being alone in the room. Before Kuroh could step in, though, an unknown voice coming from the radio took him by surprise.

“I sent Kotosaka to you as a sign of trust, is it too much of me to ask the same of you?” It was a man’s voice, extremely serious and polite.

“You haven’t denied your involvement with the Colorless King’s actions. Why should I trust you?”

Kuroh clenched his fists, if this was this the man who caused the whole mess then he knew he could not forgive him.

“I apologize.” The voice replied in a robotic tone. “I interfered with them but had no idea they would target other Kings.”

“What’s going on?!” Kuroh barged in the control room, unable to stay hidden any longer. He barely noticed the Silver King didn’t appear to be surprised.

“...one of your clansmen?” the voice wondered calmly after a few seconds of silence.

“I don’t have clansmen,” Shiro replied, “but he’s on my side. He’ll listen to everything I hear.”

“Very well, then. I will agree to your conditions. I’ll bring only one person who isn’t my clansman with me and you will do the same, as long as we can meet away from the Gold Clan’s gaze.”

Shiro nodded, although the other couldn’t see him. “I’ll need time to shake the Usagi off. Let’s say a week from now, at the coordinates you sent?”

“Deal.” He replied, excitement akin to a child’s now present in that voice. “I’ll look forward to it.”

The radio turned off and Shiro sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose: “...why is it so…” he muttered, before spinning on the chair to face Kuroh. “Sorry about using you like that, dealing with Kings is more of a hassle than I thought it’d be.”

Dealing with Kings. So that only left one option about the voice’s identity: “The Green King?”

“The parrot we saw earlier was his clansman and proxy. He requested a meeting, I declined, he then contacted me directly here and there’s no saying he’s not listening even now.” Shiro explained.

Kuroh nodded, he’d listened enough to understand the rest of the situation. It was something else that bugged him: “You still don’t intend to have any clansmen, do you?”

The man gave him a sheepish look: “It’s complicated. I’ll protect her but I can’t make her part of my clan just yet.”

An awkward silence filled the room, as both of them didn’t know what to say next. Kuroh was about to leave when the Silver King spoke again.

“Almost 23,” he said, quietly. “Klaudia was 25 and I was almost 23 years old at the time of the Dresden bombing.”

Kuroh couldn’t help but stare: this man was - albeit just physically - only three years older than him. And yet he was talking about it as if that was the day he stopped living. In a way, Kuroh knew, this was true and probably the reason he was hesitant to answer. He studied the details of his expression, wondering how long it had taken him to realize he was unable to die or age or  _change_ at all.

“You don’t wear it well.” Desperate to enlighten the mood this was the first thing that slipped from his lips and he desperately beat himself mentally for saying something so ill-mannered and out-of-place.

Shiro’s expression slowly morphed into surprise before he suddenly burst into laughter to the point of tears forming in the corner of his eyes. Kuroh just stood still awkwardly, unable to understand why  _in the name of sanity_ that was so funny.

“Sorry, sorry,” Shiro said when he was once again able to formulate words. “Nobody  _ever_ said something like that to me, I guess it’s pretty ironic! You  _know_ I’m pushing a century...”

“I guess that’s true…” Kuroh grumbled, “Anyway, 22? You were the leading researcher of the  _König Projekt_ at...what, 20? That’s pretty impressive.”

Shiro laughed bitterly: “I got my Biophysics degree at 18. I guess that saved my life, in a way. I would have surely ended up in a work camp with a pink triangle on my clothes if I hadn’t proved the country that I was a genius.”

Kuroh shivered at the light tone he used, in spite of the subject matter. “Sorry,” he looked down, “I didn’t mean to make you recall anything bad.”

“It’s fine,” Shiro stood up and Kuroh felt cold fingers gently brushing against his cheek. “You want to know me, and you have every right to. I also want to know about you, when you will feel like it.”

_The incident. The fire. The old man who abused him and abandoned him in the mountains. Yukari’s betrayal. Ichigen’s illness and death._ “Mine’s not a nice story,” he admitted, but didn’t shun the sign of affection.

“Neither is mine, but we don’t have to hold their weight on our own anymore, isn’t that right?”

“I! Found! You!” the metal door slammed open and Neko ran into them, tackling them both to the ground. “I found you!” she joyously repeated.

Shiro laughed, not showing any sign of wanting to stand up: “You defeated me!” he struck a dramatic pose, moving a hand to his forehead: “Please spare us, O mighty feline!”

“Nevurr!” she proudly arched her back, playing along.

Kuroh sighed, massaging the shoulder that painfully hit the ground when he fell.

“You hurt?” Shiro wondered as he saw his motion.

“Not really,” he let it go and sat straight up. “I understand you’re enjoying the floor, but I’m exhausted now: I think I’ll go to sleep.”

Shiro nodded, still not moving from under Neko’s weight. “Actually, why don’t we eat something before we go to sleep?” he suggested as Kuroh walked towards the door. The girl nodded vigorously.

Kuroh scoffed at the suggestion: “You’re aware it’s three in the morning, right?”

“Yup.” The man replied without any hint of shame. “And we haven’t had a proper meal since yesterday’s breakfast, ludicrous.”

“I want some food!” Neko butted in.

Kuroh gave up: “All right, but I’m tired so I can’t promise anything…”

“Thank you, wifey!” Shiro said in a sing-a-song tone.

Kuroh’s hand on the door twitched: “You stop it with those jokes and  _stand up that’s disgraceful_ .”

If something, losing his temper had the opposite effect than he desired, as the other two burst out laughing. Kuroh sighed, but had to turn around to hide a small smile that involuntarily appeared on his lips. For the first time in those last chaotic days, he finally felt like things were starting to work out.

_Don't let him._

He wouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting this on hiatus to focus on my other fic, Transient, and also because I'm kinda at loss on how to continue this. Thank you for your support.


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